#those are all things i feel in my stomach and my head and my chest and my hands

[fawnsflowerbed]

MDNI!!! AGAIN!!!!

Umm I'm thinking about Vendetta Leon with his puppy/bunny hybrid for this one but it could also just be a regular ol’ AFAB fem reader and YES, IT IS ANOTHER ASMR PORN THING because I can't get it out of my head leave me alone...

UHH CONTENT WARNING FOR ESTABLISHED CONSENSUAL SLEEP-PLAY!!!! This audio specifically from Whorosethinks (love him) gives me SUCH vibes like

Imagining it’s a lazy Sunday morning, and Leon's body is instinctively waking him up early since he's so used to doing it for his old assignments. But then he settles in and realises oh yeah shit it's still the weekend, so he chills out, tossing over only to see you. Oh, you. All soft snores and little twitching nose, your tail wiggling ever so slightly. He loves you so dearly, cherishes you, kisses the ground you walk on for Christ's sake. Railing that perfect pussy is just an added bonus.

But fuck, the position you've decided to flop into. Half on your tummy, one leg tossed over so your pert ass is up and those thighs are parted. It's not Leon's fault that he's got morning wood, it's not Leon's fault that you're dressed in nothing but one of his t-shirts and some skimpy underwear so from this angle has the perfect view of your cunt soaking through the thin fabric. He swallows hard. He might also be a little hungover, that's definitely not helping.

You've already talked this out together, and you'd made it clear in the past that if you wanted dear old owner to bury himself in your cunt even if you're asleep you'll wear a specific colour of panties. So, of course, he gets a closer look through the haze of the early morning.

There it is. Navy blue. Just like his work shirt. All pretty and lacy. He has free rein.

So of course he takes a thick finger to slide the frills to the side, slick coating the digit as he gently handles you. Of course he splays a careful hand over your back as he fumbles to lazily pull down his sweatpants, bare chest heaving as he stares at your twitching hole like he's been fucking hypnotised. He's slow, easing his rock hard dick into you inch by inch, watching that adorable nose wrinkle at the feeling of being stretched and filled by your beloved owner's cock. And god you feel so good, hot and wet, he has to take a second to collect himself.

Shaky hands stabilised on each side of your head, it doesn't take him too long to start gently fucking into you with long, slow strokes, stoking the ache in his guts with every push and pull through the velvet of your heat. He furrows his eyebrows, groaning deep from his chest, losing himself in you to the point of readjustment. He settles you fully onto your stomach, elbows bracketting you and chest to your back, cuddlefucking your sleeping form into the mattress with every clench and twitch of your insides. It should be illegal for someone's pussy to be this good, right? But he loves you, so he tries to be soft, even if he does slowly ramp up a little quicker, a little harder, a little deeper, you've got him panting like he's run a marathon.

So when you stir in your sleep, nose twitching and tail wiggling, giving that broken sleepy whimper of "Daddy?" that he loves so much all Leon can do is shush you. Leaning forward to nudge his face nice and close to your ear, whispering soothingly. "Shh, stay still baby. Daddy just needs to use his pet's perfect cunt." And ever the loyal and loving thing you are you obey with a squeaky whimper, melting into the pillows beneath him. Oh, he adores you. So compliant.

He's groaning, bordering on whiny at the way you simply let him use you, watching you adorably paw at the headboard. Every sweet tired mewl and gasp of yours against the frilled trim of the pillows. You're everything to him, taking him to the hilt, balls deep, even as he gently pins your arms behind your back so he can pronebone you good and deep into the duvet. Even as he picks up the pace, dragging his cock over every ridge of your pussy. The feeling of your hole sucking down on him like you're trying to rip his dick clean off is driving his brain to insanity, making him go dizzy. But watching your eyes flutter shut and tail wag and twitch as he dicks you down good and deep is probably the best thing in the world.

Well, a close second.

The best thing is definitely getting to creampie your cunt, watching you go rigid with perked ears and a high pitched, broken moan from your throat, how you fall to a slack pile of syrupy love stuffed full of his cum, that's definitely in first place.

And then there's the question of where this lies; what he's doing right now, peppering soft kisses across your cheeks, rubbing stubble against your face as he tugs your panties back into place. Cuddling you close with soothing words and soft back rubs until you both pass back out for another hour or so.

Eh. That sits somewhere between first and second. He's just a man, after all.

[acapelladitty]

out of control

Pairing: Sofia Falcone/Reader

Summary: Sofia claims you as her own and you're more than happy with that.

Sofia Falcone was a woman who knew what she liked. From her fashion to her choice in sycophants, she surrounded herself with things that amused her and caught her attention.

Like you.

It was her boldness that had attracted you in the first place, how easily she slipped behind you as you had danced and how warm her hand felt on the exposed skin of your lower back. A dance had quickly dissolved into a messy fuck in her closest apartment and the month that followed had been littered with quiet events and tasteful gifts that sparkled across your neck and ears.

Sofia Falcone was a woman who knew what she liked and, right now, her determination to drive you through her expensive mattress only served to make that more obvious.

The scent of red wine, your favourite, and whisky, hers, was thick in the air as your ass clung to the edge of the bed and your thighs remained wide open as you made room for the beautiful woman between them.

Wearing nothing but a harness to hold her strap in place, Sofia's skin looked soft under the gentle lighting and her dark eyes were firey as they roved between your face and exposed chest, every thrust of her hips making your tits jiggle and bounce in place.

This strap was one of her favourites.

On the thicker side, the length itself wasn't unmanageable and it allowed her to slam herself deeply without too much discomfort as her warm thighs made flush contact with your own. It was the thickness that was your undoing. Every stroke dragged across your walls and rubbed those wicked parts of yourself that had you panting and mewling for her within minutes, the slight discomfort only serving to make the pleasure all the more sweet.

Sofia adored it as the small ribbed attachment which housed itself within the harness lay across her clit, ensuring that every stroke sparked a hot flash of arousal to build within her own dripping cunt. A rising pleasure that pushed her to be selfish as she chased that high and increased her punishing pace on your poor cunt.

"Not too much is it, baby?"

Her accented voice slightly thickened by her arousal, Sofia squeezed your hip to drag your attention to her flushed face as she dropped her movements to lazy thrusts while she spoke.

"It's good, " you panted out as your hand snatched free of the sheets to run across your forehead and push away some of the hair which had fallen there, "you know it's good."

Her reply was little more than a self-satisfied noise as she flashed her whitened teeth at you in a playful grin. Without warning, her sharp nails dropped from your hip to pinch at your engorged clit and the sensation pulled a raw sound from your throat, the keen of a wounded animal as you thrashed against her hand and wordlessly begged for mercy.

"Such a good girl for me." Sofia muttered, taking pity and releasing your clit to instead score her nails across your outer thigh - igniting a streak of heat that flared across your scratched skin.

She was relentless with the strap. Every punishing thrust deep enough to glance off your cervix as she carefully angled her hips to ensure that every inch of your walls was forced to feel the pressure of her cock stretching you around her.

"Sof-Sofia." The only word that you could manage between whimpers as your fingers clutched at the sheets with open desperation. "Sofia!"

"Yes, baby. I'm here." She replied sweetly, those same punishing nails now stroking gentle shapes across your lower back. "Does my cock make you feel good?"

Your response was wordless, head nodding messily as she pressed her hand to your lower stomach - feeling your muscles shifting as you clench and writhe beneath her snapping hips.

"You're so hungry for me," Sofia continued. "It's why I can't help myself. So needy. So soft. So wet for me."

"Only for- fuck! Only for you."

With a soft chuckle, she fucks you to your first release and you scream into the sheets as your pussy convulses around her strap. She knows the signs and her fingers return to your clit, pushing you quickly past the point of comfort as every nerve in your body feels alight. It's almost painful, how much of the aching need that spasms your walls reacts to her rough touch.

Pressing your head to the side to gasp in thankful lungfuls of air, you meet Sofia's eyes as she tilts her body enough to catch your attention. Her gaze is focused, sharp and lustful as she grins down at you from behind reddened lips and you can't help but match her smile with one of your own.

"Still not full, baby." You tease, pushing back on the strap until it's pressing flush against your cervix. "You up for more before it's my turn?"

She laughs at that, a light yet throaty noise, and her response is answered in a soft slap which glances off your ass and let's you know in an instant that she's not finished with you yet.

[inej-ruination-ghafa]

PICK AND CHOOSE - l.c

Warnings: skin picking

Summary: the one where Luke and you finally discuss whatever is going on in the relationship

Wordcount: 2.4k

You sat down on his bed, the Hermes cabin empty because they were working on a prank against the Athena cabin with the Hephaestus boys.

You had called for this conversation with Luke, both of you putting it off because what was there really to say. This was it now and your heart was speeding up at a record time and you were worried it was going to beat so fast it would fly out of your chest.

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah, just-” you looked down at your hands, fingers picking at the skin by your fingernails, “-I dunno, just feeling a little insecure,”

You could feel the shame wash over you at the words because there is no need whatsoever for you to feel that way.

well there is.

At least that’s what you tell yourself as you continue to stare at your skin, hoping that the insecurity will go away with every tug of the hangnails at your fingers.

Maybe it was the fact that he had been paying you no attention since that night or maybe it was the way that you couldn’t stand the thought of other girls looking at him the way that they do, eyes roaming over his body. God, you should be the only one allowed to look at him like that.

You didn't know how long you had been silent for before he reached down and grabbed your hand, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Insecure?”

You scoffed at his words. This was not how this should go. You were supposed to be okay with casual, that’s what the two of you had discussed.

Insecure. The word made you feel sick to your stomach because it was such a petty feeling, like envy and jealousy. It came out of nowhere and sometimes just surprised you but you had been feeling it all your life.

It had been a rough day anyway but the way he said the words made it even worse. It felt like he was taunting you.

You pulled your hand away and placed it back in your lap, only just noticing the skin bleeding at your fingernails.

“It’s silly, I know-“ you started to say and he cut you off.

“It’s not silly,” he reassured, “Everyone gets insecure,”

You shook your head, “This-” you gestured between the two of you, “-us,” just saying the word made your face heat with embarrassment because what us was there.

It felt wrong, like two little kids playing dress up at having feelings. Luke was the first guy you had ever thought about in this way and here you were making a fool of yourself in front of him.

“I dont mean to be-” the words couldnt come. This was one of those emotions that you could never quite phrase and no matter what word you used, it always came out wrong, “-needy?”

Luke could sense your uncertainty about it all and he just watched you intently, those eyes that you could stare in for hours now only gave you one look. Pity.

You had to fight back the words that were trying to claw out of your throat. You wanted to yell and scream and tell him how pathetic that look made you feel, like you were some rescue puppy he had found on the streets and taught new tricks. He was your first: first kiss, first makeout, first…

Images flashed in your mind of him laying in your empty cabin, shirtless, you on top of him, hands pressed against his chest. Then you were lying there next to him in his bed, head laying against his chest as he explained the book he was reading to you. Those moments felt so far away as you looked into his eyes.

“You’re not being needy,”

this time you did scoff, “You know that thing babies get when they play peek-a-boo? Object permanence? I feel like I have that with people. Like if you’re not in the room then you must hate me and this paranoia has followed me round my whole life. Gods, sometimes, dont you just think that everyone hates you and that they’re faking being friends with you?”

The words stumbled off of your tongue before you could stop them and by then you had blurted it all out, chest heaving at the end as you realised how vulnerable you had just been in front of him.

You didn’t even look up from your hands as you waited to hear his response. He was going to hate this and you knew it.

Luke was so calm all the time, holding his composure about this. He barely even mentioned whatever was going on between you when you were with the other campers. It was like you didn’t even exist.

You couldn’t quite but your finger on how long you had been sitting on that feeling but maybe it had been there since the moment you first kissed in your cabin after the bonfire, his lips tasting like the moonshine the Dionysus kids brewed and his hand pressed firmly against your back.

You finally looked up at him, eyes meeting yours. When you would stand up, there was a significant height difference but here, sitting down, you were on even playing ground.

“We can stop,”

those words made your heart sink, stomach twisting into knots at the idea. How could you go back to the way things were before when he had been looking at you like that? When you knew what he sounded like in bed, breathy words whispered into your ear?

“That’s not why I came here,” you stated, eyebrows furrowed as you tried to put into words the way you felt.

There were no words and there never would be. How could you ever express all of the love and care that you have for him without seeming obsessed after two makeout sessions. This was supposed to be casual.

You had promised him no feelings from either of you and yet here you were less than two weeks later, heart so full to the brim with him that any pain he felt, you felt tenfold.

“Then why did you?” He asked so nonchalantly and you could feel the tears burning at the back of your eyes.

Shaking your head, you looked back at your blood stained fingernails, “I shouldn’t have,”

His eyes trailed down to your hands. You both shared the same bad habit, biting at your fingernails. His were painful, bitten to the halfway point and scared yet yours were healed, nice paint always draped on top to hide the peeling of your skin - your next victim.

Luke grabbed onto your hands to stop you from the compulsion and you felt forced to look into his eyes, “I don’t want to stop either,”

They were the words that you wanted to feel so why did they make your heart sink even lower into your chest?

“I-” the words were caught in your throat. Keep your composure. Thats what you kept repeating to yourself as you felt the tears brimming on your waterline. Crying in front of him was not on the agenda today.

Casual. Most boys dream and most girls nightmare. You should be okay with all that you could get from him, a kiss here and there but maybe that was making these feelings worse.

Maybe it was the way that he wouldn’t act like he wanted you on some nights, barely even acknowledging that you are there, his conversation focused on some other camper as you stood by the sidelines waiting like an idiot.

Maybe it was the way he talked to other girls, their eyes trailing over his shoulders and arms like he was on the market, hand on his shoulder as they laughed at one of his shitty jokes.

Maybe it was the way that you wanted him to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you close, to kiss you when the other head of cabins were looking, to want to make out with you when he was sober as well as drunk.

“I like you,” you blurted the words out.

He chuckled, “I like you too, is that not obvious,”

You shook your head with disdain at his comment. This was not time for silly jokes.

“No. I really like you and I dont want you to kiss other girls,”

his brow furrowed and he shook his head quickly, “Who said I want to kiss other girls?” He questioned.

You shrugged, a sheepishness coming over you at your admissions, “Beckendorf,” you stated, “He said he wanted to wingman you,”

”Did I say I wanted Beckendorf to wingman me?”

“No, but-“ you furrowed your brow and he just looked at your confusion.

“I like you a lot,” he promised but the words seemed to melt off of your skin like they meant nothing, “I do not want other girls, it’s just-“

You cut him off before he could finish his sentence. “You want to be single but have me on the side, just in case you get bored?”

He could hear the spitefulness in your words, the anger in your tone and he wondered how long this had been building up in your chest for, how long you had been wanting to say this to him.

“That is not what you are to me,” he reassured but the words didn’t help.

Scoffing, you pulled your hands away, “Then why don’t you want to kiss me? Why do I have to make the effort all the time?”

He tilted his head to the side and looked at you, watching as a tear slipped over your waterline. You cursed yourself as he leaned forward and wiped the tear away with the pad of his finger. He hated to see you like this, so much self loathing inside of you.

“I’m nervous,”

Now that was a ridiculous statement, “You? Nervous,” you shook your head at the woods because there was no way that they could ever be true, “You are like the coolest person I know, why would you get nervous?”

You watched as a blush crept up to his cheeks, “Because you’re the coolest person I know,”

your eyes widened at his admission and you wondered if he meant it.

“I worry that we are going to screw up our friendship by doing this, that I am no going to be a good boyfriend for you. I cannot lose you,” he admitted and you just sat there for a moment, staring at him.

“I think i just did, screw it up I mean,”

He shook his head, “You? Never,” he promised, hand coming down to rest on your knee which you only just noticed was bouncing up and down in your nervous state, “I care about you so much,”

”Then show it,”

“The other campers-” he started to say and you sighed. Great. Another excuse why you were not going to be working out.

“Ignore them, let’s be us,” you were practically begging at this point because you knew he could call this arrangement off any second and you would be left drowning in all the affection you never got to show him.

“I don’t want them to know, they will get involved and ruin this,” he was right and you hated that.

“I want you to want me,” the words tumbled from your mouth easier than you expected them to, “I want to be at the bonfires and you dance with me and talk to me and it sounds so needy,”

“It’s not needy,”

”It is!” You exclaimed.

The room went silent and you were left staring at one another, listening to the creeking of the walls in the wind and the rustling of the grass, “It is,” you repeated, a little bit quieter.

”I can’t do casual,”

He nodded, understanding the complexity of it all, “I can’t do a relationship,”

A sob was caught in your throat as you heard those words, they were the last thing that you wanted to hear and he knew that, watching as your face contort at his statement, lip trembling as you tried to stop the tears from overflowing.

“Okay,”

He tilted his head to the side, “Okay?”

You just shrugged because what was there left to do. There was no way that you were going to be able to convince him that you were worth it, that you were worthy of being his girlfriend if he didn’t want to be convinced.

“You’re an idiot,” he stated and you turned to look at him with a face that read shock horror.

“Excuse me?”

He could see all the hurt and anger bubbling up inside of you, brows pulling together and nose scrunching up just like it always did before a fight. He knew you too well.

“I would try. For you,” he stated and there it was again, the flip of emotion on your face to one of confusion, your lip pulling up in confusion, brows still furrowed but softening to complexity, “I want you in my life and more than a friend,”

You shook your head because this was all so wrong. You stood up, head spinning. This was not the way that this was supposed to go. This was going to be you breaking this thing off with him and yet here you were potentially entering into a relationship.

He followed after you before you could reach the cabin door, hand sneaking around your waist to pull you closer to him, “Say yes,”

“Luke,” a hand came out, balancing against his chest.

“Say yes,” he repeated, nose nuzzling against your throat. You knew this was wrong but Gods, it felt so right.

“Luke,”

He hummed in response, looking up at you with those big brown eyes that you had come to love over the years.

”Say yes,” he hoped one more time would do the trick.

You nodded your head, leaning down to feel his breath against your lips, “Okay,” you nudged your nose against his, “Okay,”

“Be my girlfriend?” The words seemed so natural on his tongue and you couldn’t fight the warm feeling in your chest at being addressed in that way.

You kissed him then and there. There still were not enough words to explain this feeling but as you kissed against the door in the Hermes cabin, you knew you were going to regret this moment in the long run.

But right now, there was no regret.

A/N sorry for the lack of posts, I've been at uni for a while but I'm feeling the inspiration. This is good for you guys and bad for me because this is the most autobiographical fanfic I've written in a while so enjoy as my love life plummets to hell

[thefallennightmare]

Hey. Hi. Hello. How are ya?

The whore on my shoulder has been loud since I saw The Plot In You on Saturday. Because of my texts with @artificialbreezy this morning, I’ve decided to listen to her and the whore on my shoulder and write this drabble. It's kind of long for a blurb/drabble. So please enjoy!

Landon Tewers x Reader w/ slight Noah Sebastian x Reader.

18+ SMUT BELOW THE CUT(hate fucking with unprotective P in V, mean and possessive Landon, shower sex, choking, fingering, biting, spanking, teasing, brat!reader, peeping Noah).

“I swear, Lana! I faked it. Every time.” 

She looked at me with wide eyes trying not to choke on her sandwich as we sat around catering. The Plot in You and Bad Omens were touring together and it was nearing the end of the first week out of three. It was the first time I met anyone in the Bad Omens camp and since we both were the only females in each of our camps, Lana and I meshed well together. It also helped that we both were photographers. 

“You didn’t even get one?” She asked, dropping her voice since someone walked past our table. 

“Well, with my ex boyfriend. I faked it all. Now, I’m determined to make sure I get at least one before the guy gets off,” I admitted but then snapped my mouth shut when another body stood behind her. 

Looking away from Lana and up to the man that now stood behind her, looking through the spread of food. The tattoos on his thick arms glittered in the light of the room and when he glanced over his shoulder at me, I couldn’t take my eyes away from the snake and apple tattoo on his neck as his Adam’s apple bobbed slowly. 

“Hi,” I gave Noah a small wave as crimson warmed my cheeks when I remembered what happened yesterday.  

I accidently walked into the Bad Omens green room thinking it was the one for The Plot in You and managed to catch Noah mid dress. He was shirtless and stepping into his stage pants. My mumbled apology fell off my lips when I saw all those tattoos donning his skin and the very prominent hard on underneath his briefs. Noah made no move to kick me out, instead he backed me up into a corner, hands resting on my hips. 

“Need something?” He asked. 

“Depends on if you want to give it to me,” I playfully shot back. 

He hummed while slinking his hand underneath my hoodie, fingers grazing over the blazing skin of my stomach. “All you have to do is ask.” 

“I want you to make me cum with those long fingers. Think you can do that, Noah?” I breathed over his lips. 

He didn’t say anything, simply pulled down my jeans to my ankles. 

Noah now gave me a smile before gathering a plate of food to go sit at the table right behind me. When I saw who Noah sat next to, my heart stuttered in my chest when I locked eyes with a pair of dark eyes that had clearly been watching me. Not just today but ever since I started working for The Plot In You two months ago. 

Landon scratched at his chin, sending a wink my way, which made me spin back in my chair to face Lana. 

“What’s going on between you two?” she wondered. 

I blinked while shifting in my chair. “Me and Noah? No-nothing. We’ve just been flirting, that’s all.” 

Lana raised her brow with a sly smirk. “I meant with you and Landon.”

“Oh,” I mouthed while feeling a burning gaze at the back of my head. 

For two months, Landon and I had a complicated relationship. We would flirt with each other but not in the way you’d expect. Landon liked to tease me while I was a brat with him and couldn’t control my mouth. What started as light physical contact like the occasional brushing of hands or his hand on my lower back when he needed to walk past me soon became something more. Any chance he could, Landon would corner me and whisper filthy things in my ear to gauge my reaction. Most of the time I’d be so caught off guard that I would gaze up at him like a deer in headlights. When I did gain the courage, I would find the most revealing yet modest outfit to wear while working, showing off the right parts of my body that drove him wild. 

The other night was the first time that we got sexual when he pulled me into his bunk while we drove to the next city and whispered five words in my ear. 

“Need to taste you, baby.” 

Of course, I didn’t say no. I’d been riled up all week and needed a good orgasm that wasn’t brought on by my vibrator or hand. 

Yet, it never happened. Because as Landon was in the middle of devouring me, my hands gripping the back of his head so he couldn’t leave, his phone rang.

“No, please,” I whined when he pulled away. I’d been so close to my orgasm and was starved for it. 

He kissed the inside of my thigh. “Just give me a few minutes. I’ll be right back.” 

After laying there naked from the waist down for fifteen minutes, I swallowed the lump of embarrassment in my throat and got myself dressed again, leaving his bunk. Neither of us said anything about that night which made me believe it wasn’t what he imagined. 

I wasn’t what he imagined. 

“There is absolutely nothing going on with Landon and I,” I finally told Lana while pushing away my plate of food, suddenly not hungry. “We just like to have fun teasing each other.”

“I think what you and Noah are doing is fun. Which is fine. You’re single, you deserve to have fun. But I think whatever is going on between you and Landon is more serious.” 

“What do you mean?” I pursed my lips. 

She began gathering her things before motioning over my shoulder. “He hasn’t stopped staring at you since you stepped into the room. And the look he has in his eyes tells me everything I already knew.” 

With a wave, Lana left me alone at the table with only my thoughts. 

Not for long, however. 

Landon kicked out the chair next to me before falling into it, dark amber eyes pinning me in place. 

“Need something?” I asked with a narrowed gaze and rubbed my sweaty palms on my bare thighs.

A smirk played on his pink lips underneath his mustache as he leaned forward to whisper in my ear. “With me you won’t be faking because you’ll be fucked like the whore you are.” 

My face blanched for a moment, wondering if I’d heard him correctly, but then anger festered low in my gut when it finally registered what he said. 

“Fuck you, Landon!” I seethed while pushing away from him and rising to my feet, him sitting laxed in the chair as he looked up at me. 

He shrugged. “All you have to do is get on your knees and beg.” 

I sneered while snatching my camera off the table. “All you are is fucking talk. You talk such a big game to make up for your shit performance in the bedroom! You couldn’t even get me off the other night!” 

Everyone in the room stopped what they were doing to watch us as I dared a glance over to Noah who was watching with an amused smirk on his face probably because he felt proud that he was able to get me off while Landon couldn’t.

Landon slowly rose to his feet so he could peer down at me. His breathing was deep and even, almost scary from how calm he was. It was the muscle in his jaw ticking that told me he was trying hard not to retort back. 

But of course, I was a brat, so I stood up on the tips on my toes to whisper in his ear, letting my hands rest over his broad chest. 

“At least Noah was able to get me off.”

Oh, I really fucked up. 

All because I couldn’t keep my stupid mouth shut. 

After leaving Landon behind in catering, I needed to be alone which is why I decided to take a shower in the tour bus bathroom. The show was in a few hours so I needed to get ready for it anyway. I’d been alone under the scalding water for less than five minutes before the door to the bathroom clicked open causing me to peer through the steam covered class, seeing Landon leaving against the door with a sly smirk. 

“What are you doing?” I asked, slightly shocked he managed to sneak in but made no move to cover myself. 

“You said I had a shitty performance in the bedroom. Do you want to find out?” He asked while taking off his button up shirt, leaving him in a pair of jeans and a white tee.

I should say no. 

I should tell him to fuck off and leave.

But I didn’t.

Which is how I found myself pressed up against the plastic wall of the tour bus shower, Landon harshly whispering in my ear, dragging his teeth along the lobe, as the water splashed against his large back. 

“You’re such a fucking brat, you know that?” 

A loud smack echoed in the tiny shower when he brought his hand down on my ass causing me to yell out in slight pain and arousal. 

I bit my tongue nearly drawing blood so I didn’t ask him to do it again. 

“Fuck you, Landon,” I spit out instead, the anger from our earlier argument still brewing deep in my gut. 

A dark chuckle brushed against the back of my neck as he pressed his cock against my ass. 

“You can act like you hate me all you want, baby. But you keep pushing that perfect ass against me. I know what you want. But the question is, do you deserve it?”

Yes I do. 

“Go fuck-oh.” 

My threat fell away when his finger brushed along my folds, slowly teasing my clit. 

“Is this for me? Or for him?”

Don’t say something bratty. Don’t say something bratty. 

“Noah knows how to touch a woman,” I shot back over my shoulder. 

Landon let out a low growl while kicking my feet farther apart and bringing my ass closer to his hips so I was bent over, hands spread on the shower wall. I knew I didn’t need any foreplay, I was ready to go, and it seemed like Landon knew this as well because he angled his cock at my entrance. 

“Do I-?” 

I shook my head, already knowing what he was going to ask. “I’m clean.”

Our moans tangled together when Landon pressed inside of me, meeting some resistance so he pulled out slightly before going deeper this time. 

“That’s it,” he grunted while resting his forehead on the back of my shoulder. “Take all of it, Y/N.” 

The sound of him fucking me over powered the noise of the shower as he ruthlessly snapped his cock in and out of me. I clawed at the wall, trying to grasp onto something to keep grounded, and the familiar bliss of euphoria began to burn low in my gut. My orgasm was so close and I needed to finally tip over the edge so I dragged my hand down my stomach towards my clit. 

Landon smacked it away. “Hands on the wall.”

“I hate you,” I grumbled while doing what he said. 

His pace was ruthless, never letting up as his cock speared me open and hitting that spot each and every time. 

“Oh, God.” I panted. 

Landon’s nails dug into the skin of my hips to keep me planted as his cock swelled inside of me, indicating he was close too. 

“Say my name,” he breathed into the skin of my back, his mustache tickling my spine. 

His cock is inside of you, don’t be a fucking brat. 

Once again, I did not listen to the voice inside my brain. 

“Noah,” I moaned while dropping a hand to my clit, rubbing fast circles. “SHIT!” 

Landon stopped mid thrust to wrap his thick and tattooed arm around my throat, bringing me flush against his chest. By now the water had run cold, chills covering my body, and when I tried to get him to move again, Landon chuckled darkly. 

“If you want me to keep going, Y/N, let me hear you say it,” he bit down on the side of my neck. 

“No,” I shot back but still tried to get him to move inside of me. 

The fire of my orgasm was beginning to dwindle. 

Landon began pulling his cock out of my tight folds, making me whimper in a pathetic mess. 

“Please,” I dug my nails into the ink on his arm. “Don’t.”

The head of his cock was the only thing inside of me and I whined, never feeling this empty before. 

“You sound so fucking pretty when you whine for my cock. Just say my name and it’s all yours,” he said in between nipping and sucking on my neck. 

His name was quiet as it fell from my lips with a beg but it wasn’t enough for Landon. 

“Use your manners, baby. I need you to speak up so I know what you want,” his cock was nearly all the way pulled out. 

“Fuck,” I wrapped a hand behind his head. “Please, Landon. I need your cock. Please, I promise I’ll be good.” 

With a hand over my cheek, he turned my face towards him so our lips were meters apart. 

“That’s my girl,” he praised before crashing our mouths together and filled me up again. 

Our tongues fought for dominance and I wasn’t going to give up, something Landon so he let me take the reins of our kiss while he brought me closer to that familiar edge of euphoria again. With past relationships, I was never able to orgasm by intercourse, I always needed something extra to help. But with Landon, he was able to make those stars dance at the corners of my vision and my stomach fluttered just with his cock. 

Pulling away from our kiss, Landon rested his forehead against mine, the water running down his tattoos. “You can tell me you hate me all you want, Y/N. But the way your pussy is gripping me tells me otherwise.” 

Movement through the shower panes of the door caught my attention as I looked into the mirror of the bathroom, nearly falling to my knees in Landon’s grasp. The familiar snake and apple neck tattoo stared at me in the reflection of the glass. Landon must not have shut the door completely so Noah was watching through the small slit opening. 

I tapped Landon’s arm, trying to get his attention that Noah was watching but it only made him fuck me even harder. “Let him watch, baby. Let him know what he can’t have.”

I tried my best to meet his pace but it was so erratic, I opted to fall deeper into his body as his grip around me tightened when my orgasm finally tore me. I let out a loud scream, writhing in his grasp. 

A large hand clamped over my mouth and Landon pressed me against the wall of the shower, his stomach fleshed against my back. 

“You need to be quiet. I can’t have the guys hear how pretty you sound coming apart on my cock.” 

Landon fucked me through the after shocks with a few thrusts before his cock twitched, finally spilling himself inside of me while panting my name. 

Almost immediately he pulled out to turn off the water of the shower, both of us freezing, and I hazily turned around to face him. I stole a glance to the mirror in the bathroom, expecting to see Noah, and I couldn’t ignore the way my stomach dropped when I didn’t see him there anymore. 

“I still fucking hate you,” I grumbled. 

He snickered while gripping my chin so I had no choice but to meet the fire in his eyes. 

“If you keep up with that attitude, I might need some help in punishing you next time.”

I gulped while wrapping my arms around me. “Some help?” 

A sinister smirk broke out on Landon’s face. “Do you want to find out?” 

Please. 

[arkieve]

1977, Christmas break. Regulus had his first kiss behind the greenhouse at their school two weeks ago. With a pocket full of coins and a stomach full of weights, he learns how to use a phone box for the first time–clutching a piece of paper with a phone number on it. All just to hear James’ voice again. One last time before the year ends. | wc: 582

It’s nerve-racking listening to the ringing, waiting for his call to be picked up. He sways back and forth, white-knuckle grip on the phone, thumb between his teeth as he waits. 

Regulus keeps an eye out on the cobblestone street, irrational fear that the passers-by will somehow know he’s doing something he shouldn’t and report back to his mother. 

A few feet over, Mr. Kreacher leans impatiently against the sleek black Rolls-Royce. When he notices that Regulus won’t be coming out anytime soon, he, too, engages in a covert activity–fishing a pack of cigarettes from his inner jacket pocket and lighting up. It almost eases Regulus’ nerves and makes him smile.

“Hello?”

Regulus jumps at the sudden voice–one he doesn’t recognise. Older, masculine–James’ dad. Shit, he hadn’t rehearsed for this.

“Hello?”

“I–Hi,” Regulus cringes. This was stupid, he feels stupid, and he can’t feel his nose; the tips of his fingers are tingling from the biting cold. “Sorry, I’m just go–”

There’s another, rather weaker voice that joins in on the other line. “Who is it?”

Oh. Regulus recognises that one, and so does his heart, apparently, from the way it threatens to leap out of his chest.

The conversation on the other end is muffled, and then there’s some shuffling before things become clearer.

“Regulus?”

His heart goes pitter-patter, pitter-patter, pitter-patter. The heat in his cheeks should be enough to defrost the windows of the phone box.

“James.”

“Shit, it really is you,” he sounds excited, breathless. More shuffling and he settles, breathing out a sigh that sends shivers down Regulus’ spine.

“So,” James’ tinny voice calls over the line. “What are you wearing?”

Regulus allows himself the blush that covers his entire face and he knocks his head against the glass window to his right. 

“Oh, you know,” he mumbles, playing James’ game to the best of his abilities, “the usual.”

“Ah,” Regulus can hear the stupid smile on his face, “my favourite.”

“Shut up, you’re just saying things.”

“I’m not! I like everything about you, so I’m not lying, not really.”

Regulus thunks his head against the glass again in response, biting his lips so hard it hurts. “Shut up,” he mutters.

“I miss you,” James says without missing a beat, and Regulus needs him to stop, or at least give him a minute so his heart can slow down. There are only so many times he can hit his head against the window before the lady walking her dog, who’s taken a special interest in his peculiar behaviour, intervenes for his sake or he, you know, drops unconscious. “I really miss you,” James repeats, as if once isn’t enough.

“I miss you too,” comes Regulus’ reply, and it doesn’t scare him how easily those words come out of him, nor how much he means it. “I really miss you too.”

“Then I should hurry back, shouldn’t I? Can’t leave you there all by your lonesome.”

“No,” Regulus pouts, and then he remembers himself enough to stop pouting, but not enough to stop himself from saying, “you can’t. So you better hurry.”

“I’m on my way, love.”

Love. Love. Love. Love. Lovelovelovelovelovelovelove—

There’s a knock against the glass door of the box. “Hey, kid! Knock it off with all the banging will ya!”

Regulus startles, struggling not to drop the phone before cradling it to his chest, frozen as he watches the man leave him to his horror and James’ awful cackling on the other end of the line.

[mustainegf]

reader is insecure about her appearance and Jase comforts her :')

FIRST JASON FICCCC!!!!!

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 ¹⁹⁸⁷

I watched him across the room, his back to me, scribbling down notes on a scrap of paper he'd found on the coffee table. Jason was lost in his own head, humming a bit to himself, tapping his fingers on his knee. That was Jason for you, dedicated. I loved it so much, but a part of me couldn't help but sometimes wonder how someone like that could have ever fallen for someone like me.

I turned away from him to look at my reflection in the mirror, and I caught sight of the small curve of my stomach, the way my thighs touched, how I never seemed to look like the girls in magazines.

The rational part of my mind could recognize that I was being too hard on myself, but at that moment, another voice inside me had almost grown comfortable to tearing myself apart. I let out a sigh that was a little too loud, and he must have heard it, because the next thing I knew, there Jason was right beside me, his hand on my back.

"What're you thinking?" he asked, his voice low and soft, as it was only when it was just us. His calloused fingers slid along my arm, warm and comforting.

"Nothing. Just…" I replied, though my voice cracked, belying me. He narrowed his eyes slightly, seeming to see through me. Jason would sometimes have this weird feeling for things, like he could tell the storm brewing in my head when I hadn't even said anything.

He spun me round to face him properly, his hands coming to rest on my arms. "I don't buy that for a second," he said, his lips twitching in a little smile. But his eyes held that softness that always melted my heart. "C'mon, what's bothering you?

I bit my lip, looking down. "I just...I don't know. I was looking at myself, and I guess I just don't feel good about how I look right now. It sounds stupid I know, but it gets to me."

Jason was silent for a moment, just easing his hands down to take mine. His thumbs circled over my palms in gentle arcs, soothing me, anchoring me. "Hey," he whispered, leaning his head down to look at me. "Listen, it's not stupid. It's real and I get it. But it's also not true. Not even close... you know that right?"

I shrugged, feeling my throat well up into a lump. "You're just saying that because you're nice, Jase. I mean look at the girls around you all of the time, the ones at your shows, the ones in the magazines. They're perfect. I just… I don't measure up."

He shook his head, and I could almost see the sad tinge in his eyes. "Those girls?" He waved his hand like he was shooing the very idea away. "They're not even real, babe. Half of 'em are pretending, the other half don't even know what they're getting into. And anyway, that's not what I want. You're what I want.

I opened my mouth to protest, but he leaned in closer, his forehead pressing softly against mine. "I know you're not seeing what I'm seeing," he said softly. "You're kind, and funny, and smart, and you're beautiful. And when I'm with you, that's what matters."

My face grew hot, and I couldn't force away the tiniest smile, though I knew I wanted to stick to my skepticism. "You make it sound so easy, Jason."

"That's 'cause it is." He chuckled, his thumb brushing over my cheek. "I'm not saying this 'cause I think it's what you need to hear. I'm saying it because it's the truth. You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen, and that's the first thing I think every time I wake up next to you."

My cheeks flamed red, but his words picked at the lump in my chest until it slowly unwound. "I wouldn't trade you for anyone. Not those girls, not anything in the world."

Jason wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close and I buried my face in his chest, letting myself just feel his heartbeat steady and strong against me.

He leaned back just far enough to cradle my face between his palms, his eyes delving into mine. "You're perfect to me. Every fuckin' inch, every curve, every part of you that you think is to big or too small. And even if you can't see it yet, I'm here to remind you, every single day if that's what it takes."

My throat constricted, but this time it wasn't from the insecurity. It was something else altogether, something warm. I nodded, burrowing my head against his shoulder as the words soaked into me like a sponge.

Jason didn't let go. He just kept holding me, and for a long time, we stood there wrapped up in each other.

[marilynslove]

birds of a feather .. J.M

“ this love will keep us through blinding of the eyes „

୨⎯ 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 ⎯୧

my breath gets caught in my throat at the sound of blade sinking into skin, the sound of jj’s small groan making my heart fall to the ground. i watch as groff twists the blade before withdrawing the hand knife from jayj’s stomach, my arms reaching out to help support the blonde as he stumbles back a little.

i can feel nothing and everything as i feel his tensed body against mine, helping him sink down to the ground slowly as i sink to my knees in front of him - eyes glossing over as my hands quickly avert to the crying of his wound, crimson red now staining the lines and creases of my hands.

my brain ignores the fading noises of groff’s footsteps as i scan his body for any more injuries that could’ve happened from the earlier combat against the mercenaries.

the pounding from my heart is all i can hear, the pulse beating quickly - yet the only sound i can listen to is the small breaths from jj’s lips - soon turning into coughs.

“no, no, no. look at me, look it’s-, it’s all gonna be okay.” i say, voice cracking as i look into the familiar gaze of his blue eyes. the ones i’d grown accustomed to seeing everyday for the past twelve years.

“let me see it.” i say, my hands shakily removing his own that were practically clutching at the gash.

my fingers tread over the now stained material, blood smearing against my fingers as my lip starts to quiver. my chest grows heavy as i stare down at him, consternation lingering in every nerve of my body as i freeze - almost like a deer in headlights.

he furrows his brows and scrunches his nose a little as he shifts his body to lean in a little - the same way his nose usually scrunches when he laughs.

“hey-, princess, look at me.” jj says through a cough, his hands reaching out to have a weak grasp on my arms. “‘s all gonna be okay, yeah? yer gonna be alright, i promise. don’t-, don’t cry.”

his finger comes to wipe the tears streaming down my face, shaking his head slightly.

“you-,” he cuts himself off with a cough, spitting up some blood to the side with a groan. his eyes flutter shut for a moment for (little to no) relief before opening to meet my own again.

“jay, baby you have to stay still.” i mumble, gently tapping on his chest.

“no, listen to me. you,” he presses his pointer finger against my chest as he leans forward - trying and failing to hold back a small groan of pain, his breath tickling against my skin.

“are gonna do great things. and you’re gonna grow old, and you’re gonna have all those babies we’ve talked about.”

i chew on the inside of my cheek as he talks, my gaze flickering over his face as i try to memorize the smallest of details. taking in the small dimples that forms as he talks, the ways his lashes kiss the soft but now dirtied surface of his skin.

the messy look flashes a small moment in my mind from when we were kids ; we’d been playing cops and robbers out in the cut and i’d tripped and fell, drawing cries from little me. john b had laughed, but jj threw himself on the ground next to me to make me laugh - ending up with dirt smeared across his nose and cheeks. i’d always thought that summed up the type of person he is.

“n you’re gonna open up that surf shop you always talk my ear off about, with the little turtle stickers you’re gonna hand out to every customer that comes and goes.” a small smile tugs at his lips, a hand coming up to brush a loose strand of hair that’d fallen out of place from my braid.

i lean into the warmth of his touch, tears blurring my vision before disappearing as fast as they came.

“do you-, do you think we’ll see each other again? in our next life?” he mumbles, the look in his eyes becoming distant as his eyes grow heavy.

i nod, the lingering lump in the back of my throat making it hard to swallow.

“every life, maybank.” i say softly, my voice trembles as i press a soft kiss against his lips.

“i love you in every one, i pinky promise.”

he looks up at me as his hand weakens, the small smile lingers on his lips before parting to speak. his body starts to relax, moving faster than his mind.

“jj? …. jj?”

[chaesonghwas]

justi. jus. jus babe. justi.

the one with the flowers. i need that ficlet.

HI BABE!!! FLOWERS!!!!!

y'all mentioned sunflowers being charles' fav flower on anna's bday fic and now that will be my headcanon forever, so have this little ficlet in return 💖💖 i hope u like itttt

"i brought you flowers." "for what?" "there has to be a reason?"

It all starts with a stupid interview - one of those TikTok things for the F1 page, asking unconventional interview questions.

“What’s your favorite flower?”

“Huh.” Charles had looked deep in thought, brows furrowed and lips pursed. Utterly adorable, like always. The backdrop of the bright pink flowers in the Singapore paddock made his green eyes pop. “Sunflowers, I think.”

And it made Pierre pause because -

Even after so many years, he doesn’t know everything about Charles. This silly video that Ilies had sent him with many laughing emojis - mostly because it also contains a diss at Pierre’s football skills - has revealed a truth about his boyfriend he never knew and, most importantly, that he never even bothered to ask. A twinge of guilt twists a way in his stomach because Charles deserves the best - he deserves someone that cares about what his favorite flower is and someone who won’t give him generic flower bouquets.

That’s why he ends up at Charles’ doorstep in Monaco carrying a sunflower bouquet he can barely fit in his arms, when he most definitely should be in Milan preparing to train with Ben. Pierre might have gotten a little carried away, he’ll admit.

“Hello?” Charles asks over the intercom after Pierre rings the doorbell, a little confused. Maybe he should’ve texted ahead, Pierre thinks. 

Pierre puts on his deepest voice as he answers. “Special delivery for Charles Leclerc.”

He doesn’t expect that to work, but Charles buzzes him in so Pierre rides the elevator up to his apartment. A wave of doubt washes over Pierre, but he trudges ahead and knocks on Charles’ apartment door. “Delivery!” he repeats in that deep voice.

When the door flies open, Pierre hears Charles gasp of surprise and he just about melts into the floor in a pile of goo. He loves him - he loves him so much. “Oh my god, Pierre.”

“Hi, calamar.” He tries to poke his head out from between the stems, but he’s mostly unsuccessful. “I brought you flowers.”

“For what? Shouldn’t you be in Milan right now?” His words are formatted like a reprimand, but his tone is more emotional than anything.

“Does there have to be a reason? Can’t I just be a good boyfriend?” 

Can’t it just be because I love you and you deserve good things?

Pierre thinks that but he doesn’t say it because this thing between them is still fairly new and raw and growing - they haven’t said I love you as a couple yet but Pierre can reel it in and wait, because he wants to give this time and he has known Charles is the big love of his life since he was about thirteen, so he’s not worried. He hopes that for now the sunflowers will be enough to communicate to Charles how he feels - I love you, I care about you, you’re my sun.

“You are the best boyfriend,” Charles answers, a little choked up. “It’s beautiful, thank you Pear. Now come in and set the flowers down so I can kiss you stupid, yeah?”

“Nothing would make me happier.” Charles giggles at Pierre’s words and grabs his wrist to lead him inside, sending sparks flying up his arm. When he finally manages to set the flowers down on the table, Charles kisses him and walks them backwards into his bedroom. 

“Sunflowers are my favorite, you know?” Charles muses after, in a post orgasm haze. Charles has a hand splayed across Pierre’s chest and his head tucked in his boyfriend’s neck, content and relaxed.

“I know.”

Charles doesn’t give a verbal answer, he just lifts his head and squints at Pierre. When Pierre chuckles guiltily, knowing he has probably clocked on to him listening to the interview, Charles just lets his head fall and cuddles back into Pierre with a quiet hum.

[dwaekkicidal]

𝖪𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝖻𝖾𝗋: '𝖫𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝖱𝖾𝖽' ༄࿔ 𝖡.𝖢.

⤷ Size Kink | Stomach Bulge | Teratophilia (Wolf-Hybrid)

♱ word count: 1.8k

♱ warnings: fem!reader, Red Riding Hood reader x Wolf Hybrid Chan, I never specify body type but this has stomach bulge & Chris is described to be bigger than the reader so read at ur own discretion, size kink, teratophilia, knotting, kinda corruption?, bribery/coercing, lowkey kinda mean chris (everyone act surprised. Sian wrote mean dom), rough sex + big dick chris with no mentions of prep, biting, public sex? Its in a forest but nobody is around, 1 use of “good girl’

sorta proofread

Kinktober Schedule

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

“Tsk tsk tsk… You should know better than to be this far out in the woods, Red. You know this is my territory.”

“C-Chris! Listen… I’m really sorry but I need that plant over there. Grandma isn’t doing well and the only remedy that will help needs just a few of those flowers…” The tall man looks over his shoulder, eyeing the purple-colored flowers that you had pointed out.

“Hm… Okay, you can have a few.” The bright smile that grew on your face was almost enough to let you take it for free. Almost.

“Thank-” “On one condition.” 

“C’mon, sweet girl. You know I don’t do things for free~” His rough fingers stroked your cheek and he couldn’t help but grin as your smile dropped. The canines that peeked out from behind his plump lips were enough to bring you back to reality and remind you that he was in fact still a wolf hybrid and not so much your “friendly” neighbor.

“What exactly do you want…?” His grin seemed to get wider before he took his bottom lip between his teeth. A predatory glint took over his eyes as he slowly looked you up and down.

“I have something in mind…”

“Open the fuck up.”

His growl rumbles from deep within his chest and he thrusts his hips forward aggressively, causing you to cry out. Your thighs ache from the action, along with your swollen pussy thanks to the big dick that was currently tearing your insides up. You lost count after the first 5 inches, and now the seemingly never-ending length was quickly becoming too much for you.

He knew this all too well. But that didn’t stop him from forcing you and your little human body to take every last inch of his thick cock inside of you.

“C’mon Little Red, you can take it. You need to, remember?” He chuckles and pushes your thighs further apart. “You need those pretty little flowers, so you need to take my fucking cock.” His smile drops at the end of the sentence and he pulls out just to roughly thrust back inside. You moan out in surprise and his fingers dig further into your thighs, leaving crescent-shaped divots in your skin. 

“P-Please…” He clicks his tongue and leans forward more, shoving his face into your neck with another growl. With this, he manages to push another inch or two into your puffy hole, but your mind is so foggy that you don’t even notice it right away. The feeling of him breaching your walls so aggressively, all while he growls and huffs about how he needs to be all the way in for it to “count as payment” makes your head spin.

Even more so as a sob rips from your throat when he finally bottoms out. Your jaw drops and you squeal as his hips grind against yours, causing him to feel deeper all while he rubs against your G-Spot so perfectly. He throws his head back at the feeling of you completely wrapped around him and groans deeply when you clench subconsciously.

“There we go~ Good job, baby.” He licks a stripe up your neck before placing kisses all over it, letting you take a few seconds to breathe. He wasn’t that much of a brute- he did still care for you after all. Plus, what good is a new toy if you break it so early on!? So he takes a few seconds to himself, backing away and fixing his posture, allowing him to get a good look at you. And God do you look exquisite.

He licks his lips and looks over your body multiple times, doing everything in his power to burn this image of you into his head. He starts with your pretty lips, swollen and shiny with drool, and then your flushed cheeks that are wet from the fat tears that fall down them.

His eyes glance at your arms, smiling to himself at the army of goosebumps that have littered your skin as your body shakes deliciously with what he can’t decipher if it’s pleasure or pain. Your chest catches his eyes next; the way it heaves with each breath you take makes his chest swell with pride. But the thing that took the most of his attention, was the not-so-little bump on your tummy.

His lips were slightly parted and his breath was quickening as he lightly traced the outline of his dick. It’s at this point that he realizes just how large and wide he is compared to you. He’s always noticed- it’s quite hard not to. But when he has you like this, below him and completely at his mercy, he finally realizes just how much bigger he is. The sun only urges him further, casting a giant shadow over you that completely covers you and some of the ground you lay upon.

It makes his instincts go absolutely crazy and he can’t hold himself back from experimentally thrusting, moving at an angle that makes the bulge more prominent. The squeak you let out causes his eyes to flicker back up to your face, essentially snapping him out of the daze he was in. And when he meets your confused face looking up at him, he realizes how long he has been staring.

“Haha… Take a look at this, baby.” He wipes some of your tears and tilts your chin to help you look down. The desperate moan you let out sends his ego to the moon, causing him to twitch against your walls. He huffs out a laugh in disbelief and begins to move his hips, thrusting into you slowly yet roughly.

“I’m so deep… You feel that, baby?” His hand moves from your thigh and pushes down on your lower stomach, right on top of where the bulge popped out each time he bottomed out. “Fffuck.. ‘S my fat cock in your tummy?”

“God- Fuck, shut up Chris-” You clench tightly at his words despite your words and he ignores you in favor of picking up his pace, groaning when your walls flutter around him even more.

“You feel so fucking good. It’s almost like this pretty pussy was meant for me.” You swear you almost see his eyes roll into the back of his head, but he immediately brings your attention away by folding you in half. Pushing your knees to your chest and letting your ass hang in the air as he completely hovers over you, fucking into you with carnal need.

This new position makes you see stars and he uses it to his advantage, pounding into you and not allowing you time to think straight. He chases this brutal pace until your legs begin to ache, the pain of it overpowering the pleasure and making you hurriedly tap on his shoulder and push him back, “Fuck, wait- my legs.”

He huffs in annoyance but responds immediately, sitting up straight and allowing your legs to fall to his sides. His hips continue to thrust shallowly as you breathe deeply and try to rub the ache away, but this break doesn’t last long. You owe him payment, and he wants it now.

So he pulls out, opting to quickly flip you onto your knees and push your chest into the ground. You’re given no time to object before he’s shoving his entire length back inside with a groan. Your body shakes at the feeling of being absolutely filled to the brim. The back of your throat even itches as if his tip was poking it. And god, did it genuinely feel like that.

It’s not hard for him to find his previous pace, especially now that you’re seemingly more pliant for him. The only disobedient action from you is your cries for him to slow down, but he has no plans to. Not when you look absolutely ruined below him.

He shushes you and leans forward, holding you down with his chest against your back as he continues to fuck you as if his life depends on it.

“Shhhhh… It’s ok, it’s ok. You’re gonna be good and take it right? You're gonna let the big bad wolf fuck your brains out? Yea?” Your fingers dig into the ground and you nod as best as you can with your cheek shoved against the floor.

He’s unhappy with the silent answer and bares his teeth, sinking them into your shoulder with a growl to “Use your words.”

“Y-Yes! Please, Chris!”

“Goood girl. Just sit there and take this fucking dick. Let Wolfy use you like the good chew toy you are.” The new name makes you clench tightly around him and he groans as you cum, causing the squelching noises to become even louder. He moans and nuzzles his face into your neck, leaving small kisses before he chomps down again.

The overstimulation is starting to hit and you cry out, desperately pushing against the ground in hopes of pushing your torso up and off the floor. But that’s not what good toys do. So he growls against your neck and pushes you down, wrapping a hand around the back of your neck to keep you in place as he fixes his posture.

“No. You’re gonna sit still. Good toys don’t fucking move. I can’t knot you if you’re misbehaving.” As if to prove his point, his other hand digs into your waist, holding you even more still as he rams into you.

Thanks to his thick tip incessantly knocking into your cervix, you don’t process what he says right away. At least, not until you feel an extra mass pushing against your swollen folds. “W-Wait, your knot?!?”

You hear his earrings jingle as he tilts his head and you can almost hear the shit-eating grin on his face as he mocks you. “Yes, my knot. You’re gonna take it inside of this tight. little. cunt. And you’re going to take every last drop of my cum.” You go to disagree but your body reacts on its own, clenching around him and trying to suck him in impossibly deeper.

“F-Fuck- feels like you do like that idea, baby.” He grits his teeth and starts to focus on sharp thrusts. Once his knot finally breaches your hole, you sob into your arm and bite into it to hold back a scream.

He whines and grinds into you, rubbing against your G-spot roughly as he pushes himself over the edge. You can feel his breath on your neck, heavy and heaving as he pumps you full of his seed. His body shakes with each spurt of cum he releases, and the overwhelming movements are enough to push you over the edge again; the needy grinding from him mixed with the mind-numbing feeling of being overfilled, yet forced to hold every last bit, pushing you towards another orgasm.

“Mmmm… Hold it there, yeah? Keep my pups nice and safe in their new home, and I’ll let you take as many plants as you want. Deal, Little Red?”

Taglists: (red=can't be tagged)

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@mariteez @fun-fanfics @honeyybbuubblleess

[imaginedisish]

My Girl (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Hey guys!! So sorry this took so long. Here is the secret relationship/breeding kink fic. I honestly really like this one...and I hope you guys do too. Was listening to "Juna" by Clairo while writing it, but went with "My Girl" for the title. ENJOY!

Summary: You and Logan have been in a secret relationship for months, but everything comes to a head when a new mutant visits the Institute, and won't leave you alone...Logan shows him, and you, who your man is.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!!! SMUT!!! Thigh riding, Fingering, Unprotected PIV (wrap it up!), breeding kink, praise kink, possessive!Logan, jealous!Logan, unspecified/implied!Age Gap, established relationship, creepy!OC who hits on reader and doesn't lay off, minor violence, afab!/fem!reader, fluff/feelings, cursing, def some grammatical errors, I think that's it?

Word Count: 5,313 this is why it took so long also, smut right under the cut...

You remember the first time he fucked you, vividly. 

It was late at night, after a mission. You almost died in his arms. And that was what broke that thing inside him, the burden of time that he carries, that deep-seated pain that made it justifiable to stay away from you. He had held back for so long—had done his all to resist falling for you. He was screwed from the beginning, and he knew that. But he had become so terrified at the thought of losing you that he hadn’t realized it could happen all the same if he stayed away—if he forced himself to remain a friend. 

So, when he fucked you that first time, that first night, he fucked you like it’d be the last—the only time. 

“Goddammit, so fucking perfect,” he mumbled, his lips bruising yours, shoving himself deep inside—as deep as you could take him. “Needed you this whole time. Can’t live without you.”

“Logan,” you whined, his hips snapping against yours. “D-don’t stop, please.” “Never gonna stop, pretty girl,” he promised. “Can’t go back. Can’t be anywhere but here.”

For months now, you’ve been together—but nobody knows. There’s no doubt about commitment—nothing casual about the relationship in the slightest. You start and end every day in Logan’s bed. You’ve talked about running off together, getting married, and settling down. For the first time in his long life, Logan sees a future where he’s happy—genuinely happy. 

The sun peaks through the curtains. You curl yourself into Logan’s chest. His arms are wrapped around your back, holding you tight against him, even in his sleep. You listen to his breathing as the fall breeze creeps through the open window. Everything is calm and quiet in the morning, when everyone is still tucked away in their bedrooms, sound asleep. 

Logan groans, tugging you closer to him, nuzzling his face into your neck. “Go back to sleep.” His voice is heavy, laden with exhaustion. “Too early.” He kisses the spot just under your ear, and you moan involuntarily, feeling extra sensitive in the haze of the morning. He smiles softly against your neck, and kisses you again, his teeth grazing your skin. You moan louder this time, intertwining your legs with Logan’s. “Love those pretty little noises you make.”

“Feels good,” you murmur, his thigh slotting between your legs, pressing against your core. You can’t help but grind down on his thigh, rocking your hips back and forth. “Need you, Lo,” you beg. 

“You’re gonna ruin me,” Logan husks, his palms warm against your bare skin as he slips underneath your shirt—which is really his. 

He’s slow in the morning, pressing soft kisses on your bare shoulders, letting his touch linger longer than normal. He likes the peace of it all—waking up to each other, smelling you next to him, feeling the other side of his bed warm and full of you. When he fucks you, early like this, he takes his time. 

His fingertips trace the curves of your stomach, falling into your dips, gripping your flesh. Logan breathes you in, his lips softly melting into yours. “Still too early?” You mumble between soft, lazy kisses. 

“Never too early to want you,” Logan husks, dragging his thigh against your core again. “Always need you.” You can feel his erection through his boxers. “Gonna take care of my girl. Gonna make you—”

There’s a knock at the door. “Logan?” It’s Scott’s voice on the other side. He knocks again. “Logan, you in there?”

Logan tries to ignore him, his fingertips dragging down your sides, bumping into the hem of your panties as he trails wet, open-mouthed kisses down the hollow of your throat. You let out a breathy moan as Logan bites down on your pulse point. He smiles under your jaw at the soft sound, content that you can’t hold back. 

“Logan,” you whisper, running your hands up his arms, to his shoulders, your fingertips finding the nape of his neck. “He’s not gonna stop.”

Sure enough, Scott knocks again. “Logan, I know you’re in there,” he calls, banging on the door now. “Wake up. We have some tech guy on his way.” 

Logan groans into your neck. “Why do you need me, Summers?” Logan licks your collarbone teasingly, hiking your t-shirt farther up your body. 

“He’s…a mutant,” Scott explains. “He can speak with machines, computers, code—you name it, he can do it. He’s gonna fix some stuff around the mansion. Charles asked me to make sure you’re awake just in case…” Scott trails off.

Logan finishes Scott’s sentence. “In case everything goes to shit?” 

“I wasn’t going to say that,” Scott huffs, likely shaking his head on the other side of the door. “But yes. In case things don’t go as planned. I’m also looking for—"

But Logan cuts Scott off, saying your name for him. 

“Yeah, I can’t find her. Do you know where she might—”

“On a run,” Logan chimes in, and you suppress your laughter by pressing your face into his chest. “She’ll be back soon.” Logan’s arms wrap around your back, holding you against him. 

“Alright,” Scott says, shuffling, slowly stepping away from the door. “If you see her, let her know what’s going on, okay?”

“Trust me bub,” Logan husks, his fingers digging into your flesh, tickling you. “I’ll make sure she knows.” 

Scott mumbles something unintelligible as he walks down the hallway, his footsteps echoing as he disappears down the stairs. 

Logan’s lips are attached to your neck again, sucking playfully. “Where were we?” He teases, his nails grazing down your back. His palms settle on your ass, squeezing your flesh tightly in his hands. 

You moan, your chest flush with his. “Logan,” you whine. “We need to get up,” you insist, your hands pushing against Logan’s broad shoulders, your fingers digging into his muscular biceps. “Can’t stay in bed anymore.”

Logan grunts, his thigh still nudged between your legs, rocking into your core. You want him, and it’s tempting to let him take you right here, right now. But you can’t. And he knows it. He presses a chaste kiss to your lips and pulls you tightly into his chest. “Later,” he promises, his lips finding the shell of your ear. You smile at the thought. There was always a later with Logan.

You snuck out of Logan’s room, unnoticed, as always. It was still early—too early for the ruckus of a morning at the mansion to begin. You got ready for the day and slipped downstairs. You’re still shocked at just how oblivious the rest of the team is. Truly, no one knows about you and Logan. 

You’re in the kitchen now, nursing a cup of coffee, waiting for the day to start. Familiar, heavy footsteps approach, and you smile before you can even see his face. 

“Hi pretty girl,” Logan coos, standing behind you and wrapping his arms around your front. You lean into him, feeling the warmth of his chest and the strength of his heartbeat. He presses a chaste kiss to the crown of your head and walks over to the coffee pot. 

Scott enters the kitchen as Logan takes his first sip of coffee—one second earlier and he would have seen Logan holding you. “The guy is here,” Scott announces from the doorway. He looks at you and smiles. “Oh! Hey! How was your run?” He asks cheerfully. 

You almost spit out your coffee, remembering what you were actually doing this morning. “Great!” You say, doing your all to hold back your laughter. “Surprisingly relaxing.” Logan snorts and plays it off like he’s sniffling.

Scott smiles, none the wiser, and nods, cocking his head towards the hallway just outside the kitchen. “Come meet the tech guy!” He backs out of the doorway and into the hallway. Logan settles his coffee cup—which reads #1 Professor—next to yours on the counter and gives your waist a quick squeeze as you hop out of the chair. You walk shoulder to shoulder into the foyer. All the signs of your relationship are there—out in the open—and yet, still, no one seems to catch them.

You step into the foyer, and there’s Scott and the Professor by the front door, chatting with a younger man—who’s about your age. The man’s eyes find yours, and he smiles softly. “Hi there!” He calls, waving. “I’m Mark!” He strides away from Scott and the Professor and towards you. “But you can call me Techno.” He smirks and winks, extending his hand out, waiting for you to take it.

Logan grabs his hand instead, gripping it tightly, catching Mark off guard. “Wolverine,” Logan growls. “And you can’t call me Logan,” he adds, gritting his teeth. “So, you turn on computers, bub?” 

Mark grimaces, wrenching his hand from Logan’s grasp. “A little more than that,” he asserts, closing his eyes and bawling his fists. You look up as the lights flicker, and televisions turn on and off. Your cell phone rings in your pocket, and you pull it out. The screen reads: Incoming Call from Mark.

Your lips part. “How did you…” You trail off. 

Mark shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. “My powers essentially let me communicate with electricity and tech,” he explains. You can practically hear Logan seething beside you. 

“A technopath,” Charles offers as he rolls over to join the three of you with Scott in tow. 

“Exactly,” Mark says, nodding to Charles. “Makes it easy to put my number into pretty girls’ phones.” Mark winks at you, and you press your lips into a straight line in response. 

You shake your head. “I’m not inter—”

You’re cut off by the sound of Logan’s claws unsheathing. “These,” Logan pauses, lifting his claws to Mark. “Make it real easy to hurt creeps who put their numbers into girls’ phones without asking first, bub.” 

Mark rolls his eyes, and the corners of your lips twitch up. You try to force down your smile, try to slow the rhythm of your heart. You secretly liked when Logan got possessive over you. He was inherently protective, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on just a little. 

“Let’s stay on course,” Charles reprimands, guiding Mark to the hallway to the left with a wave of his hand. “Let me show you some of the machines I’d like you to work on.”

“It would be my pleasure, Professor Xavier,” Mark says harshly, his eyes locked on Logan as he backs away to follow Charles and Scott.

Logan lowers all but his center claw, giving Mark the middle finger as he turns around. “Don’t mind Logan,” Scott says as they disappear into a room, the door shutting behind them.

“Logan,” you whisper, now that everyone is gone. “Don’t worry,” you assure, bringing a hand to his shoulder. 

He turns to look at you. “He’s a fucking creep.”

“It’s going to be fine.”

 It is not going well, or fine.

Mark is something of a nuisance. He’s only been here for an hour, but he has already created multiple excuses to talk to you, to pull you away from whatever task is at hand. 

You’re in the middle of teaching an English class, discussing Mrs. Dalloway with a group of older students. “So, what are we to make of Clarissa and Sally’s relationship?” You ask the students, to no avail. 

This was your hardest class of the day—especially given the fact that you’re not even a decade older than most of the students. You had joined the X-Men in your early 20s, your powers having shown themselves a bit later than in most mutants, and only a few years have passed since then. Convincing the students who have been here their whole lives that you deserve to teach has been nothing short of a challenge. 

So, when Mark butts his head in on your class, annoyance burns through your body. You take a deep breath and swallow down your frustration. 

“Hey!” He chimes, his head poking through the open classroom door. “Mind if I take a look at your computer really quick?”

The class perks up, more focused on you than they were just seconds ago. You fake a smile, nodding and pushing yourself off the front of your desk so that he has space to access the computer. 

He slips behind the desk and smiles widely. “You didn’t have to move,” he remarks. “Would’ve been nice to have you close.”

You want to gag. You turn away from the students, whispering so they can’t hear. “Listen,” you chide, narrowing your eyes. “I am not interested, so could you please—”

“What are you doing in here, asshole?” Logan’s voice echoes against the walls of the classroom. For the first time all year, the class is paying incredibly close attention. “The Professor told you to check the computers in the lab down the hall.” Logan fully enters the room, striding over to Mark, his hands bawled into fists at his sides. “Beat it, bub.”

“Whatever,” Mark mutters, his head down as he exits the classroom. The bell rings, and the class stands, grabbing their things and filing out the door. 

You groan. “Please read the next twenty pages for tomorrow!” You shout over the hubbub and shuffling of students. “I know it’s a challenging novel, but I think you guys can…” The students are gone before you can finish your sentence. “Handle it.” 

Logan smiles sympathetically, closing the distance between you and him. His presence is comforting, warm, everything you’ve ever needed. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. “Sorry,” he apologizes, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “Didn’t mean to make your class harder than it is already.”

You take a deep breath, your annoyance fading away. “You helped,” you whisper. “Mark is the one who ruined things,” you insist. “He won’t leave me alone.”

Logan chuckles. “You don’t like him?” He teases. “Don’t like a guy your own age flirting with you?” He’s egging you on, trying to joke, but you can tell part of him is a bit serious. 

You shake your head. “Only like you.” You press your lips to the hollow of his throat and Logan grunts. 

He reluctantly pulls away, the palms of his hands dragging down your arms, his fingers intertwining with yours. “Gotta get to my class,” he husks, his fingers slipping, tugging longingly as he steps to the door. “Meet me after?” He asks, but he already knows the answer. You’ll be outside his classroom door before the bell rings, waiting for him.

You nod, and he smiles, his hands gripping the doorframe like some invisible magnet is pulling him away, and he’d give anything to spend another second with you. He slips down the hallway, and into his classroom. 

You spend the next thirty minutes or so grading papers, waiting for the period to end so that you can walk across the hall to Logan’s class. Another few minutes pass, and you start to collect your things, readying yourself to meet Logan. Your heart thumps in your chest at the thought, even after all the months you’ve spent together. 

You grab your bag and head to the door, closing it behind you and locking up. You cross the hall and stand outside Logan’s door. He’s teaching a younger group of kids—ten to eleven-year-olds. You would trade places with him in a heartbeat if you could. The younger students loved you. There was no question of respect, no doubt of your power. But Logan was given the class as a challenge—Charles wanted to test his patience. 

And, honestly, seeing him with the children did something to you. You loved watching the way he doted on them, carefully explaining material in a way they’d understand. He was an excellent teacher, and one day, you’re sure, he’d make an even better father. You find yourself falling into fantasy: Logan, late at night, a baby—your baby—on his chest. You can see it now—him changing a diaper, teaching the child to walk. Your heart squeezes in your chest, your eyes falling closed as you daydream about the future—your future together. 

You’re so distracted that you don’t hear Mark walk up to you—don’t feel his hand grab your shoulder.

You yelp and jump. “Oh my god,” you mumble, turning around and coming face to face with him. 

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, his hand lingering for far too long on your shoulder. He finally peels away, his arms falling to his sides. He leans against the wall, trying to appear casual and cool. “What are you doing tonight?”

The bell rings before you can think of a polite way to shoo Mark away, and the students exit Logan’s classroom, happily shouting greetings in your direction. You stood outside Logan’s door every day, and the students were always excited to see you.

A few of them run up to hug you, complaining about Logan’s gruffness. When they hear Logan’s footsteps approaching the door, they bolt down the hallway, their laughter booming against the walls. 

Logan steps out into the hall, and he groans audibly when he sees Mark next to you. But Mark ignores Logan, his eyes trained on yours. “Got plans?” He asks again. 

You roll your eyes. “Dude, I’m not interested!” You groan, too irritated to pretend to be nice. Mark smirks and parts his lips, ready to persist like the creep he is.

Logan steps in front of you, his claws already out. “Listen, bub,” he growls, his claws just inches from Mark’s chest. “If you don’t fuck off and stop harassing my girl, we’re gonna have a problem.”

Mark scoffs. “My girl? What are you, her father? You can’t possibly be dating her.”

You can see the anger in Logan’s eyes, the honest rage. “Lo,” you soothe. “Don’t do it.” But you know it’s too late. His decision is already made.

Logan shoves Mark against the wall, his claws pressed against his throat. “I’m her fucking boyfriend, bub,” he grunts as Mark squirms helplessly under his hold. 

“Oh, her boyfriend?” He teases, despite the fear in his eyes. “Aren’t you too old to be a boyfriend?”

Logan shoves him harder into the wall, and Mark yelps pathetically, like a small dog. “More serious than that,” Logan asserts. “Guessing you wouldn’t know anything about that though, would you?” 

“Alright, break it up!” Scott’s voice echoes from down the hall. He runs over, Jean and the Professor by his side. Rogue and Gambit follow close behind. But Logan doesn’t budge, the tips of his claws almost digging hard enough to draw blood. 

You bring your hand to Logan’s shoulder. “He isn’t gonna hurt me,” you whisper to Logan. “I could handle him easily if he tried.” You slide your hand to the nape of his neck, trying to soothe him, to relax him. “Nothing’s going to happen, okay?” 

Logan retracts his claws and lets go of Mark, who stutters away from Logan and into the center of the hallway. “I’m getting the fuck out of here!” Mark shouts, but Logan doesn’t react. He simply intertwines his fingers with yours. 

“You okay?” He asks, his thumb brushing circles into the side of your hand. 

You arch a brow. “Are you okay?” You smile and lean into him. 

“So…” Scott trails off, interrupting. “You two are…”

“Together.” You finish his sentence, your eyes still on Logan’s. You can feel the tension in his shoulders stretch down to his hand. He’s rigid, still on edge. You know he needs to get out of here, needs to be alone with you. 

“How long has this been going on?” Scott asks, genuinely caught off guard. “Did anyone know about this?” 

You turn to the team to see heads shaking side to side—save for the Professor. “I did, of course,” Charles confesses. “But I felt it was best left a secret until the two lovebirds decided otherwise.”

Rogue shakes her head, the corners of her mouth twitching up. “I can’t believe you never told me!” 

“Told you what?” Jubilee calls from down the hall, approaching the group. She blows a bubble as she stands next to Rogue, her eyes trailing down to where your and Logan’s hands connect. Her eyes widen and her bubble bursts. “No way!” She cheers, jumping up and down. 

“Settle down,” Charles laughs, extending his hand down the hall to where Mark was just moments ago. “Scott, make sure our technopath friend makes it out the door alive.” Scott nods and heads down the hall. Charles turns to you and Logan. “As for the two of you,” he pauses, winking. “We’ll discuss more at a later point.”

You smile in understanding, and Logan squeezes your hand—another sign it’s time to go. He’s still worked up about Mark; he needs to get this out of his system, needs to relieve all the built-up tension. 

“Got something I need to take care of,” Logan says to the group, tugging you down the hallway.  

He strides through the mansion, practically yanking your arm out of your socket. “Logan,” you whisper, trying to catch his attention. You’ve never seen him like this—rage and jealousy like fire in his eyes, dripping from his pores. He leads you up the stairs and towards his bedroom, and it suddenly dawns on you what exactly he needs to take care of. 

Logan pushes the door open and slams it closed the second you’re inside. His hands are immediately on you, grabbing at the pillowy flesh of your ass, pinning you to the door. His lips find yours—hungry and rough, the wiry hairs of his beard scratching your face. He tastes you, his tongue seeking more of you as it swipes across your lower lip. You open your mouth, inviting him in, your tongue tangling with his.

Logan hoists you up without breaking the kiss, and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist. You can feel his erection straining inside his jeans, pressing against your heat. He grinds into you as one hand slips under your top and drags up your back, holding you tightly against him. 

“Need you,” he mumbles against your lips. “Always fucking need you.” He tears you away from the door and towards the bed. He throws you onto the mattress and climbs over you, slowly, like an animal stalking its prey. “Tell me you need me, pretty girl.”

“N-need you,” you stutter as he settles on top of you, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head. 

“I’m not too old for you?” Logan teases, one of his hands loosening its grasp on your arm and trailing down your body, settling on the hem of your shirt. “You don’t wanna be with anyone else?” He hikes up your top, pushing it above your breasts. 

You can feel the heat pooling between your legs. “No,” you whine, arching your back as his fingertips play with the bottom of your bra. “Only wanna be with you,” you breathe as Logan slowly, teasingly pulls your bra up. “Please,” you beg, spreading your legs wider. “Want you to fuck me.” 

Logan smirks, finally tugging your bra and top over your head and casting them to the floor. “Gonna take care of you, sweetheart,” Logan soothes, palming your breasts with his free hand, rolling your nipples under his thumb. 

“Fuck,” you moan as he pinches a nipple between his thumb and forefinger. 

Logan hums, his fingertips trailing across the valley of your breasts, doing the same on the other side. Logan pinches harder, and you moan louder this time. “That’s it,” he coos, his lips finding your pulse point, sucking roughly. “Don’t be quiet, darlin’,” he demands. You whisper his name, your voice whiny and needy. “Show me how much you need me. Keep making those pretty little noises, baby.”

“Feels good,” you whimper as his hand traces down your stomach, to your hips, gathering the fabric of your skirt in his fist and yanking it up to your waist.

He chuckles darkly. “You wore this just for me?” He asks, his thumb hooking inside the waistband of your panties, pulling them down your legs. “Wanted to make it easier for me to fuck you?”

“Fuck, yes, just for you,” you pant, watching as Logan lifts himself off you, tugging his t-shirt up and over his head. He dexterously unclasps his belt buckle and throws the leather to the floor. He balances on his forearm as he unbuttons and unzips his jeans, pushing them down his thighs along with his boxers. “I’m all yours, Lo,” you promise as he presses his forehead to yours.

Logan’s hand glides down your side, slipping between your legs and finding your folds. You moan as his fingertips prod at your entrance, spreading your slick. “Fuck, all this is for me?” He pinches your clit before swiping through your folds again. “You’re soaked already, princess.” His fingertips brush your clit, tracing achingly slow circles into the bud. 

You rock your hips against Logan’s touch, searching for more friction. “Logan, need you,” you whine, squirming underneath him. “I’m yours.”

“All mine?” He whispers, his touch suddenly disappearing. You groan at the loss of contact. “Say it again, pretty girl,” he demands, guiding his cock to your folds. 

“All yours,” you answer, trying to move your hips lower to feel just an inch of him. “Please just—”

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he slams into you, down to the hilt with one thrust. He throbs against your walls as he works you open, his hips still, his cock splitting you in two. “Fuck,” Logan grunts. “So fucking tight. Perfect little pussy. Wanna stay right here forever. Maybe I won’t even fuck you. Maybe I’ll just make you sit on my cock.”

But you need him to move, need him to take you. “Logan, f-fuck me,” you choke, trying to move your hips. His hand grips your waist, stopping you from sliding up his length. “Please, move,” you plead. 

“So impatient,” he chides, kissing you bruisingly, biting your lips. He finally pulls out and slams back in, bottoming out again. His hand slides down your waist and slips between your legs. “You gonna be a good girl and let me fuck you the way I want?” 

His hand is just above your clit, inches away from where you need him most, waiting for your answer. You nod emphatically. “Yes,” you say with pleading eyes. “Anything. You can do anything just please—oh fuck!” Logan pinches your clit and starts his machinations, swirling around the bud. He pulls out and pumps back in, setting a ruthless pace. 

His hips snap against yours, taking all of you with reckless abandon. His lips swallow your moans, consuming you, drinking you in. Of all the times he’s fucked you, it’s never been quite like this. There’s a hunger in Logan’s eyes that you’ve never seen before, an undying need you’re not sure can be satisfied. Something feels different about this time—more intense, fervent, and feverish. 

Logan thrusts in and out of you, bottoming out with every pump, still stretching you out. His fingertips stroke your clit roughly, your walls already fluttering around him. He curses under his breath, his chest heaving against yours. 

“Look at you,” he groans, fucking into you. “So beautiful like this. Always so beautiful.” You can feel his cock twitching inside you. “Wanna make you mine, sweetheart.”

“I-I already am,” you stammer, his fingers drawing tight, rapid circles into your clit, pushing you closer to the edge. “Always gonna be yours.”

“Want more than that,” Logan grunts, his hips rocking, his pace quickening. He’s so deep inside you—hitting exactly where you need him most with every thrust. 

“Whatever you want,” you pant, your chest pressing flush to his. “It’s yours. I’m yours.”

“Yeah?” He growls at the shell of your ear. “You gonna let me fill you up? Gonna let me stuff you full of me?”

“Yes, please,” you cry out as he pumps in and out, shoving himself as deep inside as he can possibly fit. You feel so full, so complete. Nothing compares to having Logan this close, to having him be so connected to you. You’re already coming undone underneath him, falling apart. “Want you to stay inside.” And then the words fall from your lips without a second thought. But you mean it, and you want it more than anything…

“Wanna have your baby, Lo.”

Logan groans at your words, his cock throbbing with need. “Fuck, don’t tease me like that, sweetheart.” 

“N-not teasing,” you stammer. “I mean it.”

“Shit,” Logan growls, his skin slapping against yours, your words spurring him on. He’s letting himself go, letting himself plunge deep inside you, fast and hard. “Such a good girl,” he praises, his length dragging against your walls, pushing deeper still. “You gonna let me fuck a baby into you?”

“Yes!” You cry out, the fire burning in your belly spreading up to your spine, coursing through your veins. Your walls flutter around his length, squeezing him tightly.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” Logan coos, rutting into you, his hips stuttering. “Want you forever.”

You throw your head back as his fingers swirl around your clit. “You have me Lo, always gonna have me.” Your walls clench down around him, and the tension snaps. Electricity shoots up your spine as your orgasm crashes into you. It’s intense—more intense than anything you’ve ever felt. Pleasure washes over you in waves, heat blooming across your chest and up your neck.

Logan is right behind you, whispering a string of praises as he finishes inside you. “Did so fucking good for me. Always so perfect, beautiful.” His thrusts slow until he’s still inside you, but he doesn’t pull out. “Don’t wanna move, princess,” he husks, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. 

“You don’t have to,” you say, your voice hoarse. Logan rolls you onto your side, hoisting your leg up and over his hip, keeping himself deep inside your cunt. You close your eyes, your heartbeat finally steadying, your chest still heaving in time with Logan’s. 

The silence is comfortable, calming. You listen to Logan’s breathing as he runs his hands up and down your back. “You okay?” He asks, pressing a chaste kiss to the crown of your head. 

You hum. “I’m perfect,” you mumble, burying your face into his chest. “Do you really…” You trail off, suddenly nervous to ask the only question on your mind, despite everything that just happened. 

“Yes,” Logan answers immediately. “I meant it. Wanna be a family. Wanna be with you forever.”

You melt into him, wrapping your arms around his back. You can feel his cock growing hard inside you as you move to get more comfortable. “I want that too, Lo,” you sigh. “More than anything.” You smile against him, thinking about your future, thinking about how all this started because some asshole wouldn’t leave you alone. You can’t help but giggle at the thought.

“What’s so funny?” Logan asks. You can hear the smirk in his voice. 

You look up at him. “You’re crazy, you know that?” You joke, your smile widening. “You could’ve hurt that guy.”

Logan’s smile widens too. “Just crazy about you,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. He flips you onto your back and hovers over you, his cock still deep inside you. “Should’ve kicked his ass.” You bite your lip, waiting for his next move. “You’re my girl,” he groans, sliding out of you slightly. 

“Yours,” you breathe as he thrusts back in. “All yours.”

tags: @cosmiccandydreamer @alsoprettyinpink @alastorssimp @1800-fight-me @iamburdened @chaoticweirdogeek @loganobsessed @seasonofthenerd @witch-lemon @the-occasional-artist1125 @https-murdock @afw5 @wolviesgirl @the-ruler-of-death @xtwistedchaosx @wittyjasontodd @galacticglitterglue @silversprings-mp3 @zxaera @spiderset @figsnpassionfruits @prettyseaveins @ilysmdovie12 @evasmlp @derbygracie @rammakela @honeyfewr @ricefordays-blog1 @manipulatour

[maccreadysbaby]

Some of My Favorite Ways to Describe a Character Who’s Sick

pressing their forehead into something cool or comfortable (this could be an array of things. the table, the floor, someones leather jacket, their water bottle, the countertop)

warm to the touch, or heat radiating from them (could be noticed if someone’s gauging their temperature with their hands, hugging them, or just generally touching them)

leaning into people’s touch, or just spontaneously leaning on them (like pressing into their hand when someone’s checking their temp, or just, like, literally walking up and laying their head on them from fatigue. bonus points if the character is usually feral and the other is scared to engage™︎)

falling asleep all over the place (at the dinner table, on their homework, in the car, in the bathroom — just being so exhausted from doing literally nothing)

being overly emotional (crying over things that don’t usually bother them, like their siblings arguing, or their homework, or literally just nothing)

stumbling/careening/staggering into things (the wall, furniture, other people. there is no coordination in feverish brains. running into chairs, hitting the door, falling over the couch, anything and everything)

slurring their words (could be from fatigue or pain. connecting words that shouldn’t be connected, murdering all of their conversations with the excessive use of ‘mm’ and ‘nn’ in place of words) (this is my favorite thing ever)

being overly touchy (basically like a sick kid — just hold them, please. do that thing where you brush their hair back out of their face, or rub circles on their back, or snuggle them. they won’t care. bonus points if this is also the feral character and they refuse to believe it afterwards)

being extremely resistant to touch (flinching away when they usually don’t so someone can’t feel the fever, not letting themselves be touched because they’re so tired they just know they’ll be putty in their hands if they do)

growing aggressive or being extremely rude (it’s a defense mechanism — they feel vulnerable and are afraid of being manipulated or deceived while they’re ill)

whimpering/whining/groaning (this was in my “characters in pain” post but it’s so good that i’m putting it here too. this shite is gold, especially if it’s just an involuntary reaction to their symptoms)

having nightmares caused by a fever and/or delirium (crying and murmuring in their sleep, or being awake but completely out of it and convinced they’re somewhere else)

making themselves as small as possible (curling up into a ball everywhere they lay, hunching over slightly when standing, wrapping their arms around themselves)

TW for vomiting below cut !!

sleeping in the bathroom floor because they keep getting sick over and over (bonus if someone finds them all weak and pitiful. bonus bonus if they find them there in the morning only to learn they’ve been there all night)

using their hands/other body parts to clamp over their mouth so nothing can come out (like pulling their knees up to their chest and using that, or like, their arm, y’know) (~maccreadysbaby who has emetophobia suddenly gets very awkward about this post~) (~yes i have a phobia of puke and still write this happening to my characters, shut up~) (~it’s about the hurt/comfort okay~)

sympathy pukers (people who aren’t the sick ones but get nauseous/vomit when they see someone else throw up) (~aka me~) (~okay I’m done now~)

dry heaving (it’s gross, but good for making your characters absolutely freaking miserable)

rolling/churning/spinning/cramping/ lurching and all those awesome words that describe what stomachs do when sick (i hate these words with a deep, fiery passion. but they’re good for writing or whatever)

[bongsavior]

Man sometimes. I want to rip my hairs out. All of em

And then my flesh, and then

[ervotica]

please don’t go, i love you so

pairing: young!coriolanus snow x reader

warnings: a lil toxic!coriolanus, he’s rough with r, possessive talk, quite tame in this but imma tamp it up soon, a bit of making out and being lovey

note: i do not careee about who likes this character or who doesn’t okay i am writing about him because he is literally one of the hottest men i’ve ever seen, kay? i’m not here for moral dilemmas thank u, enjoy (yes i will follow up w smut and my young!coriolanus snow reqs are OPEN!) please please remember to comment and rb, it helps me so much!

hunger games masterlist

Coriolanus is possessive.

It sickens him to his very core, sends nausea rolling like a wave through his chest; he’s not a child. Yet, the mere sight - thought - of you engaging with any other man, even innocently, is enough to have him seeing red: white-knuckled, muscles drawn taut like a bowstring, ready to eliminate any and all threat standing between him and his girl.

It's the way those boys look at you. As if you're a piece of meat, a toy to play with that they're just begging, aching to sink their teeth into, to leave a permanent mark on. The boys in this district are barbaric- that's what Coryo thinks anyway. It's disgusting, the things that he knows they think about you.

It's been a long day in District Twelve. Coriolanus' grey jumpsuit rubs and itches and his skin crawls with an uneasiness settled at the pit of his stomach. It's a warm day, his skin sticky as he peels the top half of the jumpsuit from his slender arms and ties it neatly around his waist. The grass by the lake is damp with the leftover dew from the morning.

He catches sight of you amongst the trees, weaving and bobbing through the undergrowth as you do, your lithe fingers brushing against leaves. Your head dips and then raises as his tall figure creeps into your peripheral vision. A smile graces your features, real and earnest with all your teeth.

There’s a slight waver in your countenance when you catch Coriolanus’ own expression; his brows are knit, pushing his forehead into a crease, lips pushed together tersely.

You walk straight into his arms, balancing yourself on one leg and pushing your shoulder underneath his armpit. You needle your way in, your forehead rested against his chin, so close you can feel his breath against your face.

“Hi, gorgeous,” you murmur. You reach up to push out the ridge in his brow and your thumb traces the bridge of his nose in a way that couldn’t be perceived as anything other than unbridled affection. “Something wrong?”

His slender fingers settle against your waist. You shiver at the contact when he spins and pushes you back into a tree. The bark digs into your back as you shuffle to meet his eyes— his eyes that have suddenly clouded with something dark and possessive.

“What is it?” you ask again; your voice is becoming more strained the longer he stays quiet, your own hands snaking up his arms like vines and squeezing.

He shakes his head and drops his face to look at you properly.

“Nothing. I have you.”

“Okay.” You click your tongue, tilting your head at him. His face gravitates towards yours, breath hot and mixing with your own. “You gonna kiss me or what, handsome?”

He doesn’t need any encouragement, surging forward to catch your lips between his own; his hands are rough, kneading the soft flesh of your hip. His other makes its way up to your jaw, fingertips pressing so hard you’re sure he’s branding you. You’ve never been kissed like this, with such fervour and passion and need. You gasp into his mouth and your arm wraps around his neck to pull him further into you.

“Coryo,” you pant.

“Shh,” he forces out, his fingers suddenly an iron grip around your neck; the hollow of your throat is bared to him and bobs under his cruel touch.

“Coriolanus, that hurts,” you say, strangled. His eyes are alight with a fire, a blazing inferno roaring in his head as he squeezes your throat and laughs.

You wheeze, clutching at his wrist in an attempt to loosen his grip. He obliges you, running a thumb over the indents he’s left in your soft skin to smooth them away.

“You know I’d never hurt you, right?” he asks. His head drops to the juncture of your neck, arms hooking loosely around your middle as he relaxes into you. “I just wanted to feel you. To know you’re mine.”

The incident is forgotten as soon as it ends. He has a charm in that sort of way; you don’t see his faults even when he shows them to you clear as day. You’ll never see what’s right in front of you even if he wants you to.

“Of course I’m yours, Coryo. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“The way they all look at you here…” He falters. “Like they all want you. Like they want to take you away from me. You’re mine- they have to understand that.”

“No one could take me away from you,” you giggle, your temple resting against the tip of his shoulder so you can duck your head to meet his eyes. “I know where I belong. And that’s right here with you.”

“Good.” He mouths at your neck like a man starved, arms coming right up until they’re hooked just underneath your own. He pulls away heaving for breath.

“Wanna show me just where you belong?”

[nocturnowlette]

If you wanna feel like a puppy for a bit, read this. Trust me.

Hello. There's a fun little visualization and focus exercise you can do to feel a bit more fluffy/fuzzy for a bit, if you'd like to follow along, but read slowly and in a private environment (preferably lying down). Focus on my words and read them carefully, as if you're listening to someone speak them.

In fact, I'd like to teach you something neat about focus.

Us creatures have quite a powerful sense of focus, however, most of the time, it's distributed to everything around us at once. We need to focus on our surroundings, our task in front of us, the music we're listening to, the senses we're feeling, and on and on. However, there are times where our focus gets directed entirely on just one thing.

Most of the time, the word we have for this is "immersion". Those times where everything around you seems to disappear and you find yourself lost in some world. In those moments, nearly your entire mind is focused on just one thing. As a result, you feel the things you're immersed into quite strongly.

Focus on your right hand. See how easy that is? Suddenly, you can isolate that specific part of your body very, very easily.

Focus on your left foot.

Your neck.

Your hair.

Your left forearm.

Both of your calves.

All of your fingers and toes.

Now just your pinky fingers.

Not only is our focus quite powerful, but it can be directed, not just you, but by others. This is a concept used in many things, but among them is meditation, guided meditation, hypnosis, and self-hypnosis.

What you may find interesting about hypnosis, specifically, is that one of the best ways to direct that focus is through visualization.

Focus on your head.

Now your forehead.

Now your brain.

Your brain is where the magic happens. If you read my words, and if you focus on your mind, you might find that it's hard to think your own thoughts while you're reading something. I've been guiding your focus for so long already that it is very, very easy to focus on my words.

With this newfound focus, it's quite easy to let my words relax you. Let's, for example, imagine that your body is turning into liquid.

Focus on your feet and calves.

You notice that they feel quite tired. They're so used to being flexed, being tense, but you have no need for that right now. Focus on the muscles in your calves. Feel them melt, a bit. So long as you're following what I say, you're doing it correctly. The tension you are so used to easily relaxes, and relaxes, and relaxes. It melts more and more.

Focus on your thighs.

The liquid seems to be spreading upwards. Your thighs relax effortlessly. They melt, and melt, and melt. So effortless.

With every bit of tension that disappears, feel your focus on my words only get more intense.

Focus on your hips, and stomach. They relax even easier than your legs. They melt so easily.

The feeling spreads up through your chest to your shoulders. They melt so easily. Like gravity is simply pulling all of the tension right out.

Every part of your mind and body is directed to me.

The feeling spreads to your arms, normally so active. Its so tiring to move them around all day. Feel them melt for me. Everything below the neck is turning into a melted, gooey mass.

Focus on your hands. You will need these to scroll. They move automatically whenever you need to scroll further, and every time you do so is just more proof that you want to focus on my words.

You only get more and more fixated on my every word.

All of this focus can be a lot for your brain to handle. Your brain feels dense, heavy from all of your focus being pushed up, up to the top of your body. Don't you feel so heavy? You'll find that you can hardly keep your head up the more you read, holding it just high enough to keep reading. It's all you want to do right now. Your focus is mine.

With all this pressure on your brain, it may start to feel very, very tired. Being so, so focused on me is a lot on your mind. You might feel that liquid creep up, up into your head. It rises up through the neck, up through the bottom of your skull, filling higher and higher and higher, up up and up until it has finally filled your skull completely, It's surrounding your mind.

Focus even more on my words.

This liquid seems to melt everything it touches. Normally, your mind would be strong enough to protect itself, but it seems too preoccupied on me. The liquid starts to find it's way in.

You feel your mind begin to melt.

The walls of your brain soften, the wrinkles so easily disappearing. The liquid seeps in through every tiny crack, and your brain gets heavier and heavier. So heavy. Your thoughts can't seem to stay together. Some try to pop up, but they're already surrounded. They melt so easily. All of your thoughts melt so easily.

Feel your mind melt more and more.

Focus on how hard it is to think.

Focus on how heavy you feel.

Focus on my every word completely and absolutely.

The next time I say the word "Melt", your mind will be completely gone. Your heaviness will double, and your focus will grow even stronger. Your entire being will devote itself to my words.

Mind collapsing,

filling with liquid,

thoughts disappearing,

nothing left,

Melt.

...

This is a mental state called trance. It feels nice, doesn't it? So hard to think. You don't want to think. So dumb. You love that.

You began reading this to be a puppy, a dumb little puppy. That's adorable.

Bark for me, in your head or out loud.

Good puppy.

You were so eager to feel this way, so fuzzyminded. Your brain is just a big pile of fuzz, just like the rest of you. Too fuzzy to think anything but puppy thoughts.

Bark again.

Good puppy.

Every time you bark, your mind just gets fuzzier and happier.

Bark.

Good puppy.

Every time you're told "Good puppy." you feel so happy, so so happy that you're following orders. Every time you hear it, you feel your ears perk up and feel so, so happy and so, so dumb.

It can be from me, from your owner, or from anyone you trust.

Bark.

Good puppy.

And just like that, you're trained.

Bark.

Good puppy.

You just wanna bark your mind away.

Bark.

Bark.

Bark.

Good puppy.

Good puppies follow orders from their owners. it's what puppies do. You want to be a Good Puppy, right? Of course you do.

Bark your mind away.

Good puppy.

...

I will bring you back up from trance in a moment, but you are allowed to stop reading here for as long as you wish. You can leave here and will eventually rise out of trance, but slowly. You'll feel happy and very very dumb. If you have an owner, you'll message them and act like the cute puppy you are. Or, you can just lie down and live in this feeling. Once you're ready to come back up, read ahead.

...

Focus is quite easy to return to normal. In fact, it's natural. I will count up from the numbers 1 to 10, and return every bit of your mind and body back to you. Once I say "Wake Up", you will feel completely returned to normal. Let's begin.

1.

Feel your brain begin to reform, thoughts becoming possible again.

2.

Feel your mind solidify, able to think now, but finding it very hard.

3.

Feel your body start to solidify again, feeling your muscles return to normal.

4.

The liquid drains out of your mind, giving your thoughts some room to breathe and connect, and making your brain feel lighter.

5.

You find it easy to move your legs again. Move them.

6.

You find it even easier to move your stomach, chest, and shoulders.

7.

You're becoming more and more aware of your surroundings.

8.

Your arms become easy and light to move.

9.

Mind speeding up, up, and up. Feeling happy and refreshed. Your head becoming so, so light.

10.

Wake up.

...

Welcome back. I hope that was both fun and informative. This was a bit of an experiment, so I am genuinely curious if it was effective. If it's not too much to ask, perhaps reblog this with a comment on how it felt. Or just bark, puppy. I'd be happy either way.

I do hypnosis stuff, puppy stuff, and anything else I wish. Follow if you're interested.

Regardless, have a nice day.

Update: I have two new scripts currently.

If you want to enter a Puppy Mindset whenever you wish, read this post. I assure you that it's worth it.

If you wanna fall into a puppy mind space much, much easier from now (especially to me), read this post.

Enjoy~

[2tarbell]

happy birthday!! could i get vanilla birthday cake with crybaby!reader and “she’s so pretty, she still looks like an angel while i’m doing the most depraved and ungodly things to her”

- 🕷️ (if it’s available)

MEAN!RAFE + CRYBABY!READER ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

participate in my bday celebration!!!

“good girl, right there, yeah?”

the drooling sounds of crybaby’s cunt swallowing the length of her boyfriend filled her frilly room. the baby blue decor seemed to judge her — being ruined in a space that was so precious. she could feel the beady eyes of her stuffed animals watching them. it should’ve felt wrong, but nothing wrong could make her feel so good.

the sex was always great with rafe. she thought he was heaven sent, so good with that mouth and seemingly all knowing when it came to her body. he knew all the spots to drag out animalistic whines and pearly tears from her.

it was all nasty words and sobs that filled the space. rafe’s large hands guided her movements roughly, pushing her to ride him in a way he liked. the realization that she was being used for his pleasure made crybaby clench around him. he rewarded her with a buck of his hips.

she mewled at the feeling, the sensation of him nudging her cervix making the tears fall harder and faster. fingers scratched at his toned chest, searching for any kind of stability.

“daddy, i— i can’t—“

a sting to her tear-stained cheek caused a choked sob to fall from her kiss bitten lips. the slap wasn’t even that hard — rafe tutted and gripped her chin, pulling her face down to his. body pliable and melting into him, her head all muddy from the contact of his palm to her cheek.

“yeah? you done, baby? tell me to stop.” he whispered, almost a threat. like he was daring her to back out.

but he knew her too well; silence broken by her little sniffles was all the response he got. those wet eyes stared at him pleadingly and pitifully. she wouldn’t say it — even if she had a gun to her head. too cock drunk to even function.

a wicked smirk etched its way onto rafe’s handsome features, resuming dragging her back and forth on his cock with her jaw still tightly in his grasp. her lips parted in a silent whine, he kissed her open mouth hotly.

“s’what i thought. you need this shit, huh? don’t fuckin’ tell me you can’t—”

she was a mess above him. hips canting when his tip kissed that perfect little spot, beginning to black out as stars dotted her vision. or maybe that was just the tears and mascara coating her lashes.

the sight had rafe pulsing inside of her, eyes flickering over her whole face and trying to commit her expression of pure ecstasy to memory. so beautiful.

his breath was ragged, a gravel texture to his voice that gave crybaby goosebumps, “love you… like an angel while ‘m doing dirty shit t’you. fuckin’… depraved and ungodly shit.”

she was hiccuping and writhing, almost to the precipice of that little death. from the way his navel continuously bumped her puffy clit. the pressure just right, his gaze so intense, his hands so rough—

crybaby came with a sob, babbling dumbly through ‘thank you’s and ‘i love you’s. her body was shivering and trying to squirm away from the blond boy. rafe caught her, working her through the sensations patiently. he pushed her onto her back and settled back into her warmth, pussy eagerly accepting his hard length with a squelch.

“get your lamb, there you go, atta girl—“

a soft white stuffed lamb was thrusted into her arms, limbs like jelly but clinging to the familiar source of comfort. her tears soaked into the plush of the animal and she bit the ear to muffle the choked cries that involuntarily left her mouth.

her pathetic little head lolled to the side into his forearm, nose nuzzling the warm skin. listening to the muffled sounds of his grunts and praises. she could feel him in her stomach — hazy eyes floating down to where they’re connected. a creamy ring collecting around his base and creating even worse sounds.

but crybaby couldn’t find it in herself to care anymore. their gazes connected and she felt the pleasure build once more. one objective on her mind:

it can’t get more ungodly than letting him fill her to the brim.

[shaisuki]

sukuna is rather entertained. fascinated even.

how his two cocks buried inside you and rearranging your guts didn't even make a dent in your round stomach. he should be seeing the two of his cock head bulging in your belly but it wasn't. all he can do is press one of his palms to feel the ridge of his cock inside you.

the king of curses had been existing in a long time for fucking concubines and women who presented themselves. afraid of what he is capable of but they all end up the same. crushed by his raw strength and left bleeding for him to consume. he grew tired of those women. the same stature and build. where his nails can scrape the bones out of their flesh and his cocks can pierce their flat stomachs while he fucks them mercilessly. he should have fucked you sooner when you came in his temple with the concubines gathered for a drop of his attention.

sharp nails digging in your supple flesh. amused at the layered pouch of a belly you carry and it jiggles and rolls like waves while he roughly shoves his two inhumane cocks inside your sopping, fat pussy.

the loud squelch of your juices leaking in his cocks mixed with his own cum that he dumped inside your womb added the intensity of the carnal desire he have for you.

his soft, pliant, little concubine. of course, you would be little for him no matter how big you perceived yourself. as if sukuna would care for that. a hole is a hole no matter who owns it and simply you have the best pussy and the body for a king like him.

too fascinated and engrossed with his new discovery that he didn't give attention to what you look like. you would be a an another pretty face for him but only he look at your face when he hears the tiniest of moans being suppressed and did he was blessed with the most softer features a woman can have. your round cheeks stained by the stray tears rolling from your misty eyes and your lips forming into a pout.

“look me in the eyes, woman.” he orders and you were quick to follow him. afraid of the consequences and sukuna can see the tears clumping at your lashes and the desperate suppression of your moans wanting to spill at the rough thrusts of his heavy cocks inside you.

“s—sukuna-sama~” the words slips out of your mouth out of the blue and when you realized your mistake, you closed your eyes and braced yourself for the imminent death that is about to come to you.

the way his name careless flows out of your mouth and your tight cunt squeezing around his cocks spurred him to drill his cocks deeper inside to you. kissing your cervix deeply that it almost protrudes the opening of your womb that is about to take his load again.

there wasn't blood came bursting from your body and only the droplets of blood from his earlier assault had stayed and you were still intact. you almost sighed from relief if it wasn't the continuous movements of his hips and the heavy balls slapping your ass preventing you to feel an ounce of relief.

you almost squealed when his lower arms grabs the sides of your chest. hoisting you easily in a sitting position with his cocks still impaled to your abused cunt. one of his upper arms is used as resting place for his jaw. red eyes moving up and down. watching as his cum trickles in his cocks and your round belly coils like spring from him thrusting his hips up and down. the mouth in his stomach licks it lips before the mouth in his face had done the same thing. amused and his boredom quenched temporarily. you were afraid and never been this aroused when the words came from him.

“tell me, woman.” he began, almost smirking before it breaks out into a full one. “can my cocks be seen in this flesh of yours if i gave you my brat?”